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Thoughts on Thirty

Saturday, August 30

Well. Today is the day. The day I can no longer blame my misbehaviour on being a wild and reckless twenty-something. (Although, to be perfectly honest, wild and reckless Vanessa was fairly short-lived and exhausted herself years ago.) Today, I'm 30. Just typing that gave me this weird combination of shudders and thrills. A couple of years ago, the thought would have given me hives. Towards the end of my time in grad school, my increasing age was starting to get to me. I was single, living in a city that didn't fit, in a program that wasn't right, heading down a path in the wrong direction. I felt stagnant, or worse yet, like I was actively sabotaging my future. But I reached a breaking point. And then I woke up. Took control of my life and my path. Started making decisions for me and not for other people's (well-intentioned) expectations of me (or for my well-intentioned but completely misguided expectations of myself). I moved back to Halifax. Met the best guy. Went back to school for something I find fascinating. Started exploring a career I actually LOVE. And suddenly, 30 doesn't seem so scary. 30 is fine. 30 is almost even exciting. I really think everything is a matter of perspective. If you're happy with your life and the direction it's headed (which, BTW, YOU control - no one else), age ain't nothing but a number, baby ;)